


A Spark Is All I Need.

by Trash_Child_King



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: I'M JUST REALLY DIGGING THIS AU, aggressive shrugging, and can't be anywhere near water, but he's cool, elemental!junkrat, fanart that inspired this is in the authors note, has a fear of it now, his pigs are little shits as well, its good shit, junkenstien time period???????, junkrat may or may not be a demon, mako doesn't know what to make of his guest, roadhog just wants to be left alone, seriously he's a little shit, the witch of the wilds may show up who knows, woodsman!roadhog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 23:51:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11368221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash_Child_King/pseuds/Trash_Child_King
Summary: Mako was a simple man of simple means. He liked the sounds of the forest, he like the isolation that came with living in the Black Forest. He liked his pigs, he liked his home, he liked just being ALONE. He was content with that. But when he saves a boy who stumbled onto his property half dead he wasn't expecting them to turn into some sort of demon.His world was turned upside down, but maybe for the better.





	A Spark Is All I Need.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [https://vatvyr.tumblr.com/](/gifts?recipient=https%3A%2F%2Fvatvyr.tumblr.com%2F).



> So I saw THIS ( https://vatvyr.tumblr.com/image/159291545673 ) lovely art and it straight up inspired me to write this shit and i am dying over this au I made based on Vatvyr's lovely art. Thanks so much for inspiring me <3
> 
> may be more than a one shot because I GOT ME SOME ANGSTY IDEAS LMAO.

Mako was a simple man of simple means. He liked the sounds of the forest, he like the isolation that came with living in the Black Forest. He liked the fact that he had not seen another human in the last month, not since his traveling to the town to gather supplies. Every once in a blue moon he would get a commission  to build something, carve something useless for a local and then he would once again to his lovely solitude. He would also once a year take his carved wares to the annual festival. As much as he hated the noise he did enjoy the hefty weight of his coin purse that came with the marketing. Other than that? He kept to himself.

He was a content man, lumbering through the forest as he headed to a clearing he knew all too well. It was far from his small cabin, where he got his lumber for carving. There was a specific mahogany that he adored working with that could only be found in this glen. The sound of groinking could be faintly heard behind him. He couldn’t help but smile. His herd of pigs followed him just about everywhere. He hadn’t raised them, they had just appeared one day out of the blue when he was searching for herbs to make medicine for the winter.  They had followed him all the way home and had been his family ever since. They were searching for truffles, something they did every day as he went about his business.

He sighed heavily as the clouds that were visible under the heavy canopy were the color of coal. It was the dry season, the summer was usually arid and almost stifling in its heat. But it seemed this year mother nature had a change of plans. It had rained more than in the this season than it had in the past few years. It would be good for the farmers he supposed. That meant more plant life for him to choose from as well. Though it did dampen his mood- his wood endeavors would more than likely be cut short.

He notice a small birch tree off to the side of the glen. Odd He didn’t remember that being there before. But then again these woods were filled with magic. The locals would screech of sorcery - terrified of anything they didn’t understand. Idiots. Every single one of them. He had seen sprites, imps, will o’ the wisps. They were harmless, mischievous but harmless nonetheless.

He shook his head. It must have been a new spirit. In all of his years of living in the forest he had never seen a creature of fae that was larger than a fox. Well he hadn’t seen any _human_ looking creatures that were large anyways. Though he did notice that when a new creature had entered into their realm a new sprout would come to life, often little saplings that grew. He didn’t know what magic created them, and he didn’t mess with them. It was a simple rule he followed.

Without a thought he went to one of the older trees that he had marked with paint to signal that it was a normal tree. It was a poplar tree, standing solemn and alone at the edge of the glen. He gripped the handle on his axe and swung down.

The rhythmic and decisive chop was steady like the heartbeat that flowed through the forest.

He had been interrupted a lot later than he thought he would have due to the rain, he was able to log  the tree and cut about half of it before the sky decided to growl. He hefted one half of the tree and headed home - only to get caught in the rain as he entered the property’s fence line. The pigs had wandered back to their stable, enjoying the heat and hay that he provided them with. He dropped the log against the cabin wall, annoyed he couldn’t get some out to work on while the sky cried. Oh well he still had things to do inside. Leaving his muddy boots on the porch before heading inside. The fire was still going, only needing another log to keep it alive. Most people would be surprised how small the behemoth of a man had  made his cabin, it had open layout. He was happy with it, he didn’t need anything large when it was only him.  He didn’t mind that it was only him really. He was happy.

He started working on dinner, cutting up a rabbit he had killed earlier and putting it in a stew. He went to work on some carvings- enjoying the smell of the stew simmering.

It wasn’t until something caught his eye later as he was using a “U” shaped gouge to cut into a small image of a bear. It was faint really, a glimmering thing that darted about from his perch by the window. It was off in the distance. Mako froze, glaring out.

“Villager? In this weather?” he mumbled, leaning over his desk to get a better look. It fizzled out before he could get a discerning look at it.  No it couldn’t be a villager, they were terrified of these woods on a bright sunny day let alone a stormy one. He would bet that they would rather throw their own mothers down a well before stepping foot on his land in such weather. They spout about curses and unholy land just looking in his direction. He snorted, the idiots.

_It was probably just a will o’ the wisp._

He leaned back in his chair, setting the gouge down to rub his eyes. He was staying up too late, too focused on his little projects or reading to notice as the clock ticking by. He grunted and scrubbed his face.

The woodsman stood up, making himself dinner silently as the rain began to batter violently over his roof.  The rain was so loud that he almost didn’t hear the alarm of squealing going off out in his yard. He jerked away from his table, swiping up his axe in alarm.

_It was a intruder. Shit._

Without a thought he shoved open his door to the shrieks of his pigs as they called out warning. Rage filled him. If one hair was pulled from any of his herd’s head whomever had the nerve to step on his land was dead. But his rage seemed to fizzle when he noticed just _who_ had bothered him.

It was a boy, no a man crumpled on the ground. Something was wrong with him. The pigs were  keeping their distance from the stranger as they frantically called to him. But Mako moved no closer, wincing at the pathetic creature.

The noise he made as he crawled in the mud was _pathetic._ A mix between a shrill whine and some sort of animalistic crying. It sounded so broken. The way the man’s body curled almost unnaturally in on himself. He had ash...soot? Something staining his skin - it was all over his body along with mud. He looked to be in excruciating pain. He didn’t think as he stepped off the porch, dropping the axe as the stranger crumpled face first into the mud.

“Hey!” He called, kneeling down infront of him. The man didn’t seem to notice, to wrapped up in his own agony to see the world around him. His breathing was ragged as he tried to swallow air, only to get rain and dirt. It was too fast, to erratic, and _wet_ sounding. His hands braced on the man’s shoulders, only to jolt back. His skin was warm, too warm. Nothing like when one was with fever. Something that should have killed him. And he grunted in confusion. What was on his skin? Ash? Charcoal? The black residue stained his hands. Was he steaming? He blinked and shook his head. No the water was in his eyes, that would be insane. Without another thought he picked the stranger up, shocked at how light he was. Malnourished if the boy’s bared ribs were anything to go by. And he was unbelievably warm, like a natural hearth.

Mako kicked the door open with his muddied foot, not caring at the trail of filth they left in their wake. Glancing around Mako grunted, he didn’t dare drop the stranger on the bed, lest he stain his bed. The couch would have to do. He settled the man on the couch by the fireplace. The blonde was wheezing, rattling really with each breath. Something had to be in his lungs, blood? Internal bleeding? He didn’t look like he had anything broken- but the soot was making it hard to tell. How did it even stay? The rain should have washed it away. Never mind that.

“Hold on there.” He went to his small bathroom, swiping some towels up to begin drying him off. He couldn’t help if he couldn’t see what was wrong with the man.

The man didn’t make any sort of intelligible noise,  no sort of english formed from his lips. Instead only that horrible whimpering. Once more he was knelt in front of the boy and with the utmost care he began to wipe away the gunk. He started with the face.

He was surprised to find freckles under the blackness, pale skin that looked ashen. The boy flinched away, growling like a wounded dog.  He was shivering and he still had a extremely high fever.

“Shit.” He had to bring it down fast or else this kid was gonna die. What a bother.

He got up, heading back into the small bathroom with a grunt of annoyance. Dampening a washcloth Mako couldn’t help wish he hadn’t stepped out of the house to begin with. Where did he even come from? He didn’t look like a villager, shirtless and withered in form.  He would probably have to feed him. A bother. Was it really so hard to get some sort of peace?

He jolted in surprise to find the boy sitting up, whining. He must have been too lost in thought to notice the other seemed to gain some form of consciousness. He swayed haphazardly from side to side like a woozy pedulumn. He paused, tilting his head in confusion.

The kid seemed to look better, if only slightly. His hair seemed to have dried faster than he thought it would. And he was muttering something. He looked sickly, like he would hurl any moment.

“Hey kid.” Mako knelt in front of him, his knees giving protest over how many times he’s had to bend down already. When the damp washcloth hit the kids face he flinched as if he had been scalded. “Hold still.”

He paused when hazy amber orbs opened, they looked like a solar eclipse, dark pupils over taking the thin rim of gold.

“You know where you are?”

“Home?” The blonde rattled, coughing

Home? Something twisted ugly in his stomach at the word. Mako grimaced. He put the washcloth against his head once more, making him wail. “No.”

There was a hissing sound, but it didn’t come from the kid’s lips, no it came from steam. _Wait. What?_

Steam came off of his forehead in faint wisps.  He jerked the washcloth back from his skin. What in the world. That wasn’t possible. There was also the smell of something burning. Was it his soup? No it was closer. Flickering caught his attention. There was sparks in his hair, small little things burning the tips of the blonde hair.

That wasn’t possible. He was soaked less than ten minutes ago. Now? He was as dry as Mako had been before he stepped outside. He was too warm. No not warm scorching hot.

“No!” The kid jerked back, eyes wide and alert as he scrambled from his grip. “No. no. no. no!”

“Hey calm down!” Mako growled, cursing as his hands got shocked with searing pain. His hands _burned._ His palms were angry and red. Shit.

The burning smell was back. What in the hell was going on? The boy was practically radiating heat as he set into a panic. His hair was smoking now, the embers now flames.

“Kid!”

“Not goin’ back! Ye can’t make me! Ye can’t have it!” The stranger shrieked, sounding more like a monster. The burning smell was growing stronger. And his skin was bright red, unnaturally red.

There was a burst of heat as he was pushed back, Mako shouted in shock, stumbling back onto the hardwood.

The boy was on fire. He was _literally on fire._ He was chattering something incomprehensible. But he was on _fire. And he looked like it was normal._ There was a terrify thought that perhaps he was a demon, some unholy abomination.

He scrambled back as he flames engulfed the boy, and in turn the cushions on his couch. It was a inferno that pushed hot against his skin. Shit. He grabbed the large barrel of rainwater he had standing in the corner of his home and with heavy toss he doused the creature.

He screamed, steam and smoke erupting from him in a cloud of white. The darkness returned onto his skin, like when you put out a campfire and the wood was charred. For a brief moment there was something in his eyes, almost a betrayal but mixed with this sort understanding. It made that ugly thing twist even tighter in his stomach.

Setting the barrel down Mako hesitantly made his way back to the couch, wishing he hadn’t left his axe out on the porch. But the water seemed to have done its job, there was that rattling again in his breathing as he hacked and coughed up puffs of smoke.

“Look….I don’t know what you are.” Mako began, making his voice booming (not that that wasn’t very hard) to garner the demon’s attention. “But I don’t wanna hurt ya.”

He didn’t, not really. He didn’t see the need to hurt it. Besides it would probably be better for him and his health if he was on the good side of….whatever this kid was.  

“Lie.” The demon hacked.

“Yah almost burned down my house.” He grunted annoyed, his fists clenching as he tried to remain calm.

“Fair enough.” The demon cackled only to let out a agonizing groan as his body only plumed more steam.  Much to Mako’s wariness he handed the kid a towel but kept his distance.  

“What’s your name?”

The demon stopped the vicious scrubbing of his face as he went deep into thought. It was as if the thing didn’t have a-

“You don’t have one do you.”

“What is a name?” He asked cryptically, fidgeting even more. He was glowing again, heat permeating from him. It evaporated what water was left. Mako gave him a glare as he tittered nervously. “Alright! Don’t got one, yah hoomans call each other silly things. Is that a name? Are those what those are called?”

How did demon not have a name? He scrubbed his face in aggravation once more. “Yes. What do I call you.”

The kid dulled in brightness for a moment as he contemplated it. There was silence for a moment as he tried to find the perfect name. And then he was a burst of fire once more as he chattered in glee. “Jamison...Jamison! That sounds top.”

“Jamison.” He got a twisted expression from the other, a sneer. “What.”

“Don’t like that.” He grumbled as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. “Sounds odd.”

Mako frowned in annoyance, he wanted that as his name didn’t he? “How about Jamie?”

He was a ball of fire once more and it set Mako into a panic. Before he could grab another pail of water the fireball giggled maniacally. “Like that! Sounds roight mate. Oh don’t worry I ain’t burnin’ your couch.”

To his credit he wasn’t, the flames were warm but they did nothing to damage it any more than it already was, the orange flames licking across the charred afghan. He was amazed as well as terrified. What was he? He had to be a demon.

“Oi that could hurt a blokes feelings saying mean things like that.” There was that twisted sneer, a harsh lick of something behind the eyes that made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

He grunted noncommittally and stood back up,moving to sit in his chair. He hadn’t even noticed he spoke anything at all. The rain only seemed to come down harder as the demon babbled on more. A crack of thunder shook the house, Jamie jumped with a nervous titter. “So what are you.”

“Yah know I like yah. So on my honor, I’ll protect ye land. I’ll make sure no one bothers ye.”

_Wait. What. No._

“No.”

“Too late mate, you helped me. Its part of how we _demons_ work” He cackled, standing up. He wobbled but stood tall. He was surprised to see he was almost as tall as he was which was shocking to say the least. Mako was a behemoth had the fire demon stand at chest height. “Can’t go out anyways. I’ll die.”

Mako grunted in frustration. Why did he even bring this thing into his house. This was becoming more trouble than it was worth. He jerked in shock when Jamie was in front of him, nothing but flames. He was floating now, his legs had vanished it seemed into a small tail of flames. The heat wasn’t as strong as before. His hand was out in front of his face, a sharp grin on his face. “Didn’t catch yah name mate, it’s good to meet you.”

Mako gave a the hand a wary look before holding his up. He was hesitant. He could be forming-

“Ain’t gonna steal your soul mate.” Jamie cackled, giving a not reassuring grin. The flame covered hand was thrusted into his own. He braced for the harsh impact of burning but was awed to find none. Instead only a comforting warmth encased his hand, licking flames curled around his massive fingers.

“Names Mako.”

“Well Mako, I believe we’ll be having a great partnership.”

Mako hoped that he wouldn’t regret this night.

 


End file.
